Jorinda and Jorindel
by Mazkeraide
Summary: A retelling of the brothers Grimm's "Jorinda and Jorindel".
1. Chapter 1

Jorinda was easily the most beautiful girl in the village. She might well have been the most beautiful girl in the kingdom- well, the province, at least. Her beauty was quite renowned, and many travelers came just to see her.

Her hair was red-gold and fell in loosened curls to her knees. She never wore it up, and even when she was working it was secured by only a leather tie. Her eyes were a pale but deep blue like the sky on a clear day. Her skin was the pale, freckled curse all redheads bear, and she was often rosy red from spending too much time in the sun. But her smile was sweet and she never complained about her sunburn, with her typical forbearance.

She had a plethora of suitors. They lined up down the street to dance with her at village festivals. Her house was inundated with flowers and baubles on her birthday, and she even once had a noble lord propose to her.

But she turned them all down. It puzzled people, how such a beautiful, skilled, marriageable woman apparently wanted no part of marriage. It was especially unsettling when she turned the lord down, for what sort of woman rejects such a prize? Nobody, that's who, and especially not a poor village girl who will most likely never get a better offer. Her sister, a girl of fourteen who was promising to be almost as pretty as Jorinda, was barraged with questions as to what would make her sister marry.

"Love," said the girl, whose name was Elisbet, and who was Jorinda's trusted confidante. "She won't marry any man whom she doesn't love and who doesn't love her."

She was dismissed as "full of ridiculous romantic notions that'll never get her married" by the adults, but the boys of the fifteen to twenty set were still bent on winning her love. True love was professed to her no less than fifty times by fifty different boys, and yet she rebuffed them all. She wasn't interested.

* * *

I myself never participated in Jorinda madness. I knew that if she wouldn't choose any of my handsomer friends, she wouldn't choose a gap-toothed, dirty shepherd. My family was one of the poorest in the village. We lived in a squalid hovel on the outskirts of town, and my mother was scorned as a tramp by the other villagers and generally avoided. My father had perished in a mysterious goat stampede accident- or at least that's what I had been told, though even when I was seven years old I thought it unlikely- and my mother raised me alone. I was her only asset, and the only way I gained her respect was by bringing home money.

She worked as a laundress, a low-paying, dull job that she despised, but continued with because she needed the money. As soon as I was of age, I began herding goats for my father's old customers, who were only too glad not to have to do it themselves. They paid me lower than the others they had previously employed, and I did a better job. It's not much to brag about, but I was easily the best shepherd in our village.

I had never once tried to woo Jorinda, as I said before. I didn't see what the big deal was. Yes, she was pretty. I supposed she was smart, although I had never really spoken with her. I had heard she was hardworking. But I was a poor shepherd, and she was- Jorinda. And so I never tried to dance with her, or send her flowers, or any of the other romantic pursuits others attempted. I actually didn't like her all that much, I had convinced myself, and I'd be better off marrying one closer to my station.

And that was why it seemed so strange when she ended up choosing me.

* * *

In the end, I determined that it was because I ignored her that I attracted her attention. She was so used to every male fawning over her that one that didn't was exceptional. I was unaware that every suitor she turned down she turned down for me, and that every boy she danced with she imagined was me. While I was pointedly not looking at her, she was quite pointedly looking at me, waiting for me to notice that she had noticed me. But to her surprise I never did, that irritated her.

Enough so, indeed, that one day she skipped out on her chores, leaving them to Elisbet, to meet me in the meadow above our village.

I was shocked to see her, to say the least. Her coming up the hill was the last thing I expected to see. Carefully I feigned nonchalance, while really I was both excited and incredibly nervous. Jorinda was coming to see me, surely? As she approached I rationalized that surely she wanted to check on her family's goats. One of them had seemed slightly peaky, now that I thought about it. Yes, surely that was it.

"Shepherd-boy!" she called in that musical voice, and immediately my resolve melted away and I stared at her intensely. Noticing my gaze, she picked up her skirts and began to run up the hill. Out of breath, she plunked herself down next to me.

"Hey," she said, still breathless.

"Hey," I said back. "What are you doing here?"

I could have slapped myself for my lack of tact.

Jorinda just smiled at me. "I came to visit you," she said cheerily. "It must get lonely up in the hills."

"Not really," I said truthfully. I rarely was lonely. The goats and my thoughts kept me company, and I often daydreamed- usually about Jorinda, but I would never have told her that.

"What do you do up here?" Jorinda asked me. I didn't even notice she was flirting.

"Um. I watch the goats, and make sure they don't get lost. And I eat my lunch. And I watch the clouds and sometimes take a nap. Then I take them back into town." Really, it wasn't that complicated. Obviously this Jorinda wasn't as smart as she was made out to be.

"Well I knew that, silly," she said, laughing. "I meant what kind of things do you think about, alone up here?"

"Just stuff," I said, reluctant to reveal what I thought about to her.

She nodded and we were quiet for a while.

"I'm Jorinda," she said suddenly, offering her hand to me.

"I know," I said, unthinkingly, then I blushed as deeply as my tanned skin would permit me. "I mean, I'm Jorindel," I corrected.

Her face broke into a genuine smile. "Jorindel? Really?" she asked, a giggle in her voice.

If possible, I flushed even darker. "My mother thought your name was beautiful," I explained. "She decided to name her daughter Jorinda. She got me instead."

Jorinda laughed, her voice like ringing bells. "Jorindel," she repeated, as if tasting my name. "I like it."

Just then I noticed that one of my goats, a black ram owned by the mayor, wandering off toward the forest.

"Sorry," I excused myself. "I have to go get my goat."

When I left her, she was laughing, probably because I'd just used the phrase "get my goat", but when I returned, she was gone. At first I was upset, but I shrugged it off. Jorinda was notoriously fickle, and why would she want me, anyway?

But the next day, as I collected the town's goats, she appeared at my side.

"Jorindel! Do you mind if I come with you today? It looks like a lovely day for a picnic, and I've brought cheese sandwiches," she said cheerily.

I wasn't one to turn down Jorinda, or cheese sandwiches, so I agreed. And soon we spent every sunny day on the hillside, watching goats and talking. And despite everything I'd promised myself about not falling in love with Jorinda, I fell for her. But that wasn't what surprised me.

What surprised me is that when I kissed her, she returned my kiss with equal passion.

All she said to me, when she pulled away, was "What took you so long?"

* * *

**So I know I totally shouldn't be writing ANYTHING right now, but this is my retelling of the Grimm brothers' "Jorinda and Jorindel". **

**Leave a little love!**

**~~Mazzie~~**


	2. Chapter 2

Everything changed after that. Everything had already changed, of course, but now it was open. Jorinda did not share my need for secrecy, and so freely and frequently displayed her love in public. She would loop her arm through mine, or entwine our fingers, or stand on her tiptoes and whisper seductively into my ear. At every dance, she would have no other partner, which was embarrassing because I couldn't dance at all. But however many times I stepped on her toes or stumbled in step, she would laugh heartily.

"You were serious," she told me after the fifth or sixth time. "You _are_ awful."

I flushed. "I told you," I said defensively. "I asked you not to dance with me."

"Why do you worry about it so much?"

"People are watching. I don't like it."

She reached a finger up and tapped my nose. "If you don't care, you'll have much more fun."

I let out an exasperated sigh. "You should be dancing with someone who can," I told her.

"But I want to dance with you," she said. "Why don't you understand that? I want to be with you."

Then she leaned up and kissed me and I knew everyone was watching but all of a sudden I didn't care because I was here, in public, and Jorinda was kissing me…

Within a few days I was the most popular man in town. Men I had never talked to before asked me what Jorinda was like, how she thought, and every other thing I could think of.

The closest thing I had had to a friend before Jorinda, a boy by the name of Matthias, suddenly began accompanying me everywhere.

"Jorinda?" he asked me, without any preamble. "Really?"

I shrugged. "She chose me," I said. "I just got lucky."

"Pretty damn lucky, if you ask me. Every man in town wants to be you, even the married ones!"

I shrugged again. I didn't want to talk about it.

"Listen, Matthias, I've got work to do," I said. "The goats have been restless lately. I have to keep a sharp eye on them, or else they wander off."

"The goats are restless, or you're distracted?" he teased. "Eh, go on," he said, seeing my blush. "Those goats need someone to look after them." With a wink, he turned and left.

When I reached the top of the hill, Jorinda was waiting for me. She greeted me with a gentle kiss.

"I brought a picnic again," she told me. "But as soon as we're done, I have to leave. Elisbet wants me home to help with chores."

I couldn't resist her pout, and I kissed her again. The mayor's black ram took this opportunity to dash off toward the woods. I only caught a glimpse of his backside as I pulled away from Jorinda.

"What's wrong?" she asked, pulling me close.

"One of the goats. He's going into the woods," I said. "I'll be right back."

She caught my arm as I turned to walk away. "Don't be ridiculous! I'm coming with you."

"You don't have to. I'll only be a moment. Besides, the woods are dangerous."

"Dangerous? You don't believe the old wives' tales, do you?" I could hear laughter in her voice.

"That's why I have to go in alone. The witch is only after lovers. Which is what we are. So you have to stay here." I had never not done Jorinda's will before. Words stuck in my throat.

"What will I do here by myself?" she asked.

"You could watch the other goats," I suggested hopefully.

"They don't need watching. They're well-behaved. Let me come with you, Jorindel!"

The goat had long since vanished into the shadows of the forest. If I didn't go in now, I lost the goat and my best-paying customer. I surrendered.

"Fine. But listen to me. If the witch catches us, you wait for me, all right?"

Her face broke into a grin. "There is no witch, Jorindel."

"Promise!"

She sighed in exasperation and agreed. "I'll wait for you. No need to worry. Nothing is going to happen."

I wished I could be as sure as she. But I worked beside these woods. I was on their skirt every day. There was a feeling, a bad, evil feeling, that emanated from them. It was a feeling that made boys scream of wolves where there were none, that made goose boys imagine their assistants as princesses. There was evil in that wood, and I knew it.

"Well, what are you waiting for? I have to be back in the afternoon," Jorinda said, grabbing my hand and pulling me after her. "You're not really worried about the witch, are you?"

The witch. I had heard stories of her for as long as I could remember. She lived in this vast forest, and for whatever reason, she detested young lovers. No one understood why, but everyone knew how she manifested her hatred.

Her system was quite ingenious, for it left no room for error. Any pair of lovers within a hundred paces of her castle was set upon by her spells. The boys she turned to living stone- alive, thinking, but unable to move or speak. The punishment for the maidens was more severe. Them she turned into birds, whatever bird seemed to suit them best, and she caged them and took them away into her castle. No one was quite sure what happened once the birds were in there, for none emerged to tell the tale.

According to the stories, the witch adored birds. She loved their songs, I assume, and that was why she collected them. However, the birds had a habit of growing old, and of dying, and then the witch had no use for them except as dinner. Of course, the witch always had a supply of birds, for as one died, another was captured, and so her cycle continued and she was content.

The men she returned for, usually at the next dusk. One could never be sure where she was, for she could change her shape as easily as we change our clothes. She might be the owl in the tree, or perhaps the fox in the bush, or the spider on the ground- one never knew.

Mockingly she would release the youth. The men always told of how they had begged so desperately for their lover's life, and how the witch had laughed and declared they would never see them again.

Many, hearing this, gave up hope immediately and decided to seek out a new bride. Their lives remained normal, and they worked at their jobs and raised healthy families, warning their children ever not to venture near the witch's castle.

Some, however, decided that nothing could keep them from their love, and charged again and again at the castle in the vague hopes of rescuing her. Of course, every time they approached they were again as stone, and had to wait until the witch freed them, laughing again. These men ended with three fates: they were finally left unfreed by the witch, and became stone; they went mad; or they killed themselves. So said the village elder, and these were the most fearsome stories of the witch.

I shook these thoughts out of my head. The witch wasn't real. She was naught but a story, a tale told the scare young children. If Jorinda wasn't afraid, I wouldn't be. I squeezed her hand and walked with her into the shade of the trees.

* * *

**So chapter two. Yay. Sorry it's awfully short and non-interesting. I promise it'll get better. Reviews?**

**~~Mazzie~~**


	3. Chapter 3

The forest was a pleasant place to be. The trees kept the majority of the sun's punishing rays off our backs, and the dappled forest floor was an absolute marvel to behold.

But the forest was silent. No birds sang in the trees, and the only sounds of movement were those Jorinda and I created as we searched for the black ram. Every once in a while I would halt, motioning for her to do the same thing, and we would listen for the ram. The silence made it easy for us to track the beast, but it did little to assuage my fears of the witch.

Jorinda didn't keep up her usual chatter in the woods. Despite her bold words, she seemed afraid of the forest, more so because she could tell I, too, was scared. She kept close to me, clinging tightly to my arm. I wanted to comfort her, but I could hardly tell her there was nothing to fear. I could sense it, closer and closer, as we walked through the woods-- an evil so deep and so powerful, none could stop it.

Suddenly, we came to a clearing. I held out my arm to stop Jorinda from stepping forward. I pointed into the clearing, and her quiet gasp told me she saw it, too.

In the exact center of the clearing sat a small cottage. It looked innocent enough-- brightly painted shutters, clean whitewashed walls, a well-thatched roof-- but its very existence was foreboding. The cottage was real. The witch was real.

"Maybe it's been abandoned," I whispered, for my own comfort as well as Jorinda's.

She shook her head. "It's too clean to be abandoned. And there's smoke."

Her body shuddered furiously against mine. I held her close and stroked her hair.

"We'll go around," I said. "We don't have to go over there."

Jorinda pointed again, and I saw what she saw-- the black ram, grazing in the shade of the cottage.

"Don't worry. I'll go and get the ram. You wait here. As long as we're apart, her spell won't work. Everything will be all right," I said.

She nodded slowly.

"Remember what you promised me?"

She nodded again. "I'll wait," she said, "if anything happens."

"If something happens to me, you go for help, all right?"

"I will. Jorindel--" She pulled me down for a swift kiss. "Be careful."

"Stay here."

I squeezed her hand, then took a single step into the clearing. Finding myself still able to move, I continued more confidently. I was almost within reach of the ram when I heard Jorinda scream.

I whirled around, or tried to, but found I was frozen in place. Jorinda was quiet now, and the only sound I could hear was the twittering of a bird, the first I had heard in the woods.

_A bird. _Oh no. Jorinda. She had stepped into the clearing.

My suspicions were confirmed a moment later when the black ram transformed into a bent old woman carrying a wooden cage. She took hold of the mockingbird that had perched on my arm and shoved it inside. Then, with a devious cackle, she disappeared into the cottage.

The rest of the day was absolute hell. I couldn't move, and the sun beat down on me, and Jorinda had been transformed into a bird, and I was all alone. My absolute stillness led my mind to wander, and I began imagining every horrible thing that could possibly happen. Jorinda could have forgotten her promise and died already. Perhaps the witch had gotten impatient and eaten her. Was Jorinda even Jorinda anymore, or was she nothing more than a bird?

My mind was tormented, as was my body. At last I slipped into some form of doze, only to awaken suddenly at dusk to find the witch in front of me.

"She's a lovely songbird, your girl," she said mockingly.

My emotion must have shown in my eyes, for she laughed loudly. "All right, boy, I'll free you." She tapped my nose and suddenly I could move again. I stepped toward her angrily, but my body was weakened by its hours of inaction and I fell to the ground, prompting another cackle from the witch.

"So tell me," she said, "what was her name?"

"Jorinda," I whispered. My throat burned and could produce little sound. Still, she heard me.

"Jorinda. Pretty. She's no Jorinda now, though. No, she's naught but a pretty songbird to brighten my home."

I struggled up and made as if to attack the witch, but she only laughed.

"Take one step toward me," she croaked, "and it'll be the last step you'll ever take. Now go, lad. You're free. Go live your life."

"No! Let her go!" My voice was hoarse, but I managed to speak up this time.

"You're not the first to make that request. And you're not the first I'll refuse. Get off my property before I turn you into a statue permanently."

I then did the most cowardly thing I have ever done in my life. I fled.

* * *

When I reached the village, I was greeted by general consternation.

"Jorindel, where have you been?" my mother cried, embracing me.

"Please," I panted. "Water."

A cup of cool water was pushed into my hands. I downed it and half of another before I could speak.

"The woods," I said. "The witch. Jorinda…"

"Where's Jorinda? Jorindel, what happened?" Matthias asked.

"The black ram. We followed it. Into the woods. I tried to tell her to stay but she wouldn't. She— the witch—"

Jorinda's sister Elisbet knelt beside me and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Jorindel, where is my sister?" she asked calmly, looking me in the eye.

"The witch," I murmured. "The witch got her."

I'm not entirely sure if it was exhaustion, heat stroke, or shock, but I chose that moment to faint dead away.

* * *

I awoke later in my own bed, slightly disoriented. I could hear people whispering around me.

"Who knows what really happened out there? All I know is, Jorinda's gone and Jorindel's come back alone," said a voice I recognized as one of Jorinda's ex-suitors.

"What are you trying to say? That my son—"

"Murdered her, yes."

"But why? He's a good boy. He'd never do something like that."

"Who knows why? Murderers don't make sense to anyone."

"He didn't kill her. He was genuinely upset. He loved her." Elisbet.

"We all loved her."

"Not like he did. Jorinda chose him because he loved her differently."

By this time I was fully awake, and I was beginning to piece things together.

Although I had fervently believed in the witch's existence before our encounter, others weren't as sure she existed. To them, of course, my story was pure nonsense. They thought I was using local myth as a cover story for some dreadful crime I had committed.

Elisbet was on my side. So was my mother, and I was willing to bet Matthias believed me. But if one of Jorinda's suitors thought I'd killed her, others would, and it wouldn't be long before they banded together to throw me out of town. Or kill me.

I could show them the cottage, but I doubted I could find my way back to it, much less that I could convince them to follow me.

I could find a way to save Jorinda. It had never been done before, but there was always a first time, wasn't there? But saving her would take time, something I didn't have here. I had to leave.

Sneaking out was surprisingly easy, once I set my mind to it. Mother and Elisbet were attempting to argue down the other villagers, and I took advantage of their distraction to run. I glanced back only once toward the forest, where I made my own promise to Jorinda.

_I'll save you, my love,_ I whispered so softly I wasn't entirely sure I'd made a sound. _Remember your promise. Wait for me._

With that, I turned and strode away into the darkness.

* * *

**Yes, I'm still alive. I know, it's been forever since I updated anything at all. I finally got something going on this, and I promise a new chapter of APOP is forthcoming. Eventually.**

**Last week of school woot! Which means we're moving into summer, when I should finish this, which will be nice.**

**Anyway. R&RSVP.**

**~~Mazzie~~  
**


	4. Chapter 4

I barely remember the next several weeks. I found myself wandering alone through the woods, never minding my way except when I saw the witch's clearing in the distance. I wanted to save Jorinda, not end up trapped again. The witch had let me go once, but I doubted she'd do it again. Those were my only lucid thoughts.

I stumbled through briars, slicing my skin and barely noticing. I drank when I stumbled across streams, I ate when berries or mushrooms presented themselves, and I slept when I collapsed in exhaustion. I dreamed of strange things, of kissing Jorinda only to discover she was the witch, of the black ram laughing at me, of being a frozen statue, unable to flee Jorinda's pursuingw suitors. When I woke from these dreams, often in a cold sweat, I would simply move on.

When I finally came out of the forest, I was far from home. The hills I'd only ever seen in the horizon were far behind me. I had never even noticed crossing them. The landscape before me was unlike anything I had ever seen, with little grass and none of the wide grazing fields of home. Instead, before me stretched long miles of wheat fields, tilled here and there by farmers. Nowhere was a herd of goats to be seen, nor the tiny hamlets that dotted the countryside. I saw before me a few scattered farms and wide roads cut between fields, walled on either side with hedges. In the distance I could see the biggest town I had ever seen, with more buildings than any place I had ever been to before. In a land like this, magic and fairy stories didn't seem to exist. It was a land infused with practicality and necessity, no place for witches. I had hardly even entered into this world and already I was doubting my past. Had I once lived in so tiny a village? Had I been loved by the world's most beautiful girl? And had she truly been kidnapped by a witch and transformed into a bird?

In my wonder I forgot my hunger, my weakness, and my fever, but as soon as I thought of Jorinda all three came rushing back, and I nearly collapsed to my knees. I hadn't eaten since— when was the last time I had eaten? I found I couldn't remember. I studied the countryside again, this time searching for the nearest shelter. People would be there, people who didn't know what I had done, didn't suspect me of murdering the person most precious to me, people who would help me. I stumbled off towards the first building that looked promising, praying I was right.

I never made it far enough to find out. I had barely reached the white gate that led to the farm when my knees gave out and I found myself swallowed by blissful blackness.

* * *

I woke the next morning in a bed, more comfortable than I had been in God only knew how long. Where was I? This wasn't home, where my pallet was so lumpy and thin in places that I could feel the floor beneath me, so what had happened? I struggled to remember, and suddenly it all came rushing back to me. Jorinda. The forest. The witch.

I sat up abruptly, which I quickly realized was a mistake. Moaning, I lay back down.

The noise must have alerted my saviors to my consciousness, as the door opened soon after to reveal a dark-haired girl about my age, who smiled winningly at seeing me awake.

"Praise God!" she said, rushing to my side. "We'd begun to think you were dead!"

"I'm sorry," I said. My tongue felt thick in my mouth.

"What are you sorry for? You were sick, and we took you in. It was hardly a great expense. My brother Joseph is an apothecary, you see, and he took care of you. He said you had a terrible fever and you hadn't eaten properly in weeks, but I'll fix that for you. I'll be right back with some soup," she said in a rush, and before I could reply she was gone.

"I'm Mary, by the way," she told me when she returned, a steaming bowl of broth in her hands.

"Jorindel," I said.

"That's a funny name. I've never heard its like."

"There was a girl in our village named Jorinda. My mother liked the name." I stiffened when I mentioned Jorinda. Was she even still alive?

Mary flushed. "I didn't mean I didn't like it. It's a lovely name. So exotic."

I said nothing. Was I even in the same kingdom? How far had I traveled?"

"You're just outside the city of Royalsbridge," Mary said, "and it's the third week of July."

July. I'd been wandering since early June. Jorinda had been a bird for as long.

"You've been wandering a while, haven't you?" Mary asked.

I nodded, barely paying attention. I was thinking about Jorinda and how to rescue her.

"Why?" I looked up to see her watching me intently. "If I may ask."

I shook my head and looked down at my empty wooden bowl. After a few moments, Mary took my dishes and left, closing the door quietly behind her.

* * *

Mary's father Peter was a tall, robust man with a wrinkled brown face. He had been farming since he was able to walk, and everything he owned he'd earned through hard work, including his wife Katherine. Aside from Mary and Joseph, he had his heir Mark and his youngest son Noah, a boy of about ten. When I was finally well enough to get out of bed, he sat me down and told me that with the harvest season approaching, he'd need all the hands he could get. He seemed to understand that I had something in my past that forbade me from going home, and he was willing to offer me shelter in exchange for work. I was only too happy to accept.

I was a curiosity in my new home. While no one ever asked outright about my past, Noah and Mary were always wondering where I had come from and what my village was like. When Noah discovered how many stories I knew, he began pestering me for them constantly, and I often caught Mary and the stoic Mark listening in. When my skills with animals were discovered, I began working in the barn, feeding and milking the cows and tending to the horses. I often found myself in the company of Mary, who would bring her mending basket out to the barn and sit talking to me while we worked. I learned that she was around my age and as yet unmarried, though she'd had more than one suitor, and that she would be perfectly happy to stay that way. She loved being at home and helping her mother cook, clean, and mend. Though I was sure she remembered my silence at the mention of Jorinda, she never brought her up, preferring instead to talk about herself and explain the workings of the farm and her kingdom to me. I found her a delightful companion.

When the harvest time came I was up before dawn every morning and working until dusk. I came back to the farm with the other men exhausted and could barely shovel in the food Katherine prepared for us before collapsing into bed. My sleep was heavy then, and for the first time since the witch had taken Jorinda, I did not dream.

* * *

**What, Mazzie's on the Internet? Yes, I am alive and no, I haven't forgotten my stories. I know it's been over a year since I updated this story (or something ludicrous like that), but I still have it! And I am still thinking about it. In fact, I told myself I had to finish it by the end of May (which has become increasingly unlikely, but hey, you gotta have goals). So with any luck at all I'll have the rest of it written and up soon.**

**I don't know if any readers are still out there, but if you are, drop a review! And maybe sometime this summer APOP will get an update or two, so keep an eye out!**

**~~Mazzie~~**


	5. Chapter 5

I was in a place I had never seen before, the dank interior of some cottage. Before me a door stood open, casting gentle yellow light into the hall. From inside the room I could hear a frantic chirping, as if someone was torturing a bird.

I ran to the door, my heart pounding. I saw the witch, her hand grasping inside a rusted metal cage as a small bird fluttered inside. Jorinda. I wanted nothing more than to go to her, to pull the witch away, but I was too late: she already had the bird in her grasp. As I watched, she wrung its neck, and the room fell deadly quiet.

The bird vanished, and before me lay Jorinda, deathly still. I moved to her side almost without knowing what I was doing and cradled her head in my arms.

"Oh, Jorinda," I whispered, "what have I done to you?"

She stirred and looked up at me. "Jorindel," she said softly. "I thought you'd forgotten me."

"Never!"

"I waited and waited, but you never came."

"Jorinda, I'm so sorry."

"Now it's too late. But at least you were here at the end…" Her voice trailed off into silence as she died in my arms.

"No! Jorinda!" I cried, startling myself awake. I was back in the guest bedroom at Mary's house, my thick quilt tangled around me, panting heavily in the dark. Only a dream.

I rose and went to the window. Already frost had descended on the grass outside, the first frost of the season. We were lucky to have finished the harvest in time. But with the long days of work behind me, I was sleeping far less heavily, and my dreams had returned, as tonight had proven. I shuddered. The dream had been too real. I was filled with a deep sense of guilt. The comfort of my life here had almost made me forget my past, forget Jorinda. I had come to consider this family as my own. My mother, Matthias, the village I had grown up in— all were faint images in my head, as though I had dreamt them. Even Jorinda had become a pleasant fantasy ending in a terrifying nightmare, nothing more.

My dream had brought everything roaring back. Much as I would like to, I didn't belong here. I belonged back home, with Jorinda and my herd of goats. I had to think of a way to save her.

* * *

I slept little the rest of the night, and when I got up the next morning I felt as though I hadn't slept at all. I yawned all through breakfast, drawing concerned looks from Katherine and Mary.

"Did you sleep well, Jorindel?" Katherine asked. "You look like you haven't slept in weeks."

"I think I'm still not recovered from harvesting," I excused myself with a smile that felt false.

Mary gave me a questioning look. I wondered how much she guessed. "Well, you'd best rest up today," she said cheerily. "Tonight's the festival, and you won't be back until dawn!"

"I may well do that, thank you," I said politely, finishing up my meal and taking leave of them.

* * *

Despite the chill of the morning, the day was quite warm, and by the time evening came round it was mild and still. I had dressed myself in Joseph's finest castoff outfit, which didn't fit me very well; the woven shirt was wide in the shoulders and I had to belt up the trousers considerably. Still, I was assured that I looked "quite handsome" before the entire family rushed to the wagon, where Mark was waiting impatiently and insisting we were going to miss the festivities.

It was a jolly carriage ride, with Noah and Mary trying to teach me every folk song they knew and threatening to upset the wagon in their excitement. Their enthusiasm was catching. The bad humor I'd been in from my nightmare was dispelled, and I found myself laughing and singing off-key along with them. When at last we reached town, I gave in to Mary's incessant requests for a dance, though I warned her of my complete lack of coordination. She turned out to be as clumsy as I, and we nearly collided with other couples on multiple occasions.

Aside from the music and dancing, there were copious amounts of food and wine to be had, and it only took a few glasses to make both Mary and I giggly and out of control. As I didn't know anyone else, I found myself dancing only with her, and other couples soon learned to give us a wide berth. We laughed and stumbled about in a parody of a dance, and I couldn't remember ever having enjoyed myself this much.

That is, until Mary grabbed me by the hair, pulled my face to hers, and kissed me.

The contact between her lips and mine, so similar to a kiss I had once shared with Jorinda, sobered me immediately. I gently pushed her away and, having no other idea as to what to do, fled the party.

"Jorindel!" I could hear her slur from behind me. "Jorindel, come back! I'm sorry!"

I turned back to see her looking at me, face flushed with wine, exercise, and embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "The way you were acting...I thought you were ready."

"Mary, I can't."

"This is about her, isn't it?"

"Who?"

"That girl, the one you mentioned the first night you were here. Jorinda."

A pang went through my heart at hearing someone else mention her name. It must have shown on my face, for Mary simply shook her head.

"I don't know what happened between you two, and I've never wanted to pry. I always thought you'd tell me on your own someday. But I can't wait any longer. Jorindel, tell me. It will help."

I shook my head. "You wouldn't believe me if I did tell you, Mary. I can't."

She closed her eyes in frustration.

"I'm going to walk back," I told her. "It's been a long day, and I think we both need time alone."

She nodded, not opening her eyes. I turned and walked away into the cool night.

* * *

My evening walk yielded no ideas, and by the time I had reached Mary's farm I was frustrated. Why couldn't I be clever, or good at planning? Why was I only skilled at mindless tasks? Watching goats and harvesting wouldn't defeat the witch. I stood no chance against her, and neither did Jorinda.

I collapsed on my bed and stared at the ceiling, trying desperately to think of something, anything that would help. I couldn't approach the witch's cottage or I'd be turned to stone. Perhaps I could send in someone else? Would Mary help? But I couldn't risk her becoming a bird as well. And how could I trust someone else to go in after Jorinda? Even if it was someone I trusted, like Joseph or Mark, I couldn't guarantee their safety. And if they managed to escape with Jorinda, how would I break her spell? I didn't want a bird, I wanted Jorinda, the girl I loved. The girl who loved me.

Despairing, I drifted off into sleep at last.

* * *

I was back in the forest, in a place I didn't recognize. A winding path, little more than a deer track, led me forward, though I couldn't see where. I could hear before me the eager chirping of a bird, and from time to time I saw it flit past my face.

Suddenly the path took a sharp turn and I found myself in a clearing. In the middle stood a single flower, the likes of which I had never seen before, blood red with a pearly white center. From the bushes on my left the bird darted out and landed on the flower, and suddenly Jorinda stood before me.

"This is what you must do," she said, plucking the flower and holding it out to me. "Do you understand?"

"Jorinda," I said, stepping forward to take her into my arms.

She held out her hand, stopping me. "That must wait, I fear. Find the flower, Jorindel. I'm waiting."

I woke in my room at the farmhouse long before dawn, and for the first time since the incident with the witch, I knew what to do.

* * *

**So...I didn't end up finishing this before the end of May. Which is not especially awesome. But I'm leaving Saturday morning on vacation and I hope to have the last chapter (I hope it's the last chapter!) up by then.**

**Thanks to all who reviewed (I suppose I should reply to those...) and to those who read but did not review. Feel free to do it again (the reviewing. I mean, go on and don't review if you don't want to, but I do ever so love reviews!)!**

**~~Mazzie~~**


	6. Chapter 6

I wasted no time in packing what little I had into a sack and preparing to leave. Jorinda was waiting, and now that I finally knew how to save her, I planned to hurry.

I would have to think of some way to repay Mary's family for their kindness. I had trespassed on their hospitality for far too long, and I would have to take Joseph's clothes with me. I wished I had money with me, but I supposed my sincerest thanks would have to do, though that meant I would have to wait until they returned. Despite my eagerness to go, I owed them that much.

I didn't have to wait long. I had barely finished my meager packing when I heard their cart outside. When they came through the door, they found me waiting with my sack at my side.

"Jorindel! We wondered where you had gone! Glad to see you made it back all right," Katherine said when she saw me. Then she noticed my attire. "Are you leaving us, Jorindel?"

I nodded. "I have to return home," I said, a carefully constructed lie on my tongue. "My mother will be wondering what happened to me...she'll be so worried. I've stayed here for far too long, and I hope to make it back before winter sets in…"

"Well, of course you do, dear!" Katherine exclaimed, wrapping her arms around me. "I can only imagine how I would feel if one of my sons simply vanished!"

Over her shoulder I caught Mary's glance. She looked at once stricken and understanding. I couldn't leave her without explaining, especially after what had happened the night before.

"I wish there was a way I could repay you," I said, pulling away from Katherine's embrace. "You've done so much for me—"

"None of that, now," she said. "I only hope someone would do the same if it were one of my sons."

I bid the rest of the family farewell, expressing over and over to them my gratitude for everything. Despite his exhaustion, Noah embraced me more fiercely than anyone else, and when he pulled away I saw tears in his eyes. I only wished I could have left them more easily.

As I left the house I walked slowly towards the woods, knowing it was only a matter of time before Mary came after me. Sure enough, I soon heard her running to catch up with me.

"You can't leave like this," she told me. "Jorindel, what's going on? Please tell me."

I sighed and motioned for her to follow me. She listened quietly while I told her my story, every last detail, even down to the dream I had had only hours before. Never once did she express disbelief, nor did she press me for more information. By the time I had finished we were nearly to the forest's edge.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Mary asked me quietly.

I hesitated. Now that I had told her and she had taken it so well, it seemed silly to have kept it secret before. I could have gotten help from her, from her family. Maybe Jorinda would be safe by now…

"How could I endanger your family? You've been so kind to me, and then for me to ask for such a thing...I couldn't. I still can't," I answered.

"I'm coming with you," Mary said. "I can't let you do it alone."

"You can't! What if the witch gets you, too? I might not be able to save you."

"Maybe I don't need saving. Why won't you just accept my help?"

"Go home, Mary. This isn't your battle, and I won't drag you into it. Go back to your family. Tell them what I told you, or don't. Just don't come with me."

I turned to look at her and saw that her eyes were filled with tears. "Goodbye, Jorindel," she said finally. "May you have good luck on your quest."

"Thank you for understanding," I said, pulling her into an embrace. "I'll find a way to let you know if I succeed, I promise."

She pushed me away and looked directly into my eyes. "If you don't, I'm coming after you," she warned. I couldn't help but smile.

I left her there, on the edge of the woods, and began my search for the red flower.

* * *

My time in the forest was much the same as it had been before. I followed every track I could, waiting for something that looked familiar. I had no guide like I had in my dream, and many of the tracks looked alike. It wasn't long before I was as hopelessly lost, hungry, and tired as I had been before.

So it went for eight days. Every path was a dead end, and I soon found myself in an unfamiliar portion of the woods, far from both my home and Mary's. I wandered long into the eighth night, until finally I collapsed to the ground and stayed there, too exhausted to move.

When I woke the next morning, the sun was already high in the sky. Before me lay a path— a path that was undeniably familiar. Forgetting my hunger and despair, I all but ran along it, following its twists and turns as though I had known them all my life. I couldn't move fast enough. An eternity passed before I reached the clearing.

There it was. In the center of the clearing, exactly as I had dreamt it, sat the red flower. Its blood red petals glowed in the sunlight, and the flash of its white center nearly blinded me.

I fell to my knees as the impossibility hit me. My dream had been true! The flower existed, and with it I could save the girl I loved.

At long last I reached forward and picked the flower. Now all that I needed to do was find the witch's cottage.

* * *

The flower had a power of its own, one that both pulled me toward the witch's cottage and sped my steps. The shadows had only begun to lengthen when I found myself on the edge of the clearing.

I hesitated only a moment before stepping forward. I took a second step and was only halfway surprised that I could. That proven, I ran directly to the cottage door and flung it open. The hallway I stepped into was windowless, but I could see light pouring out of a doorway down the hall. The kitchen.

The witch froze when I appeared on the threshold. "How did you get in here?" she screeched. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jorinda's cage. She fluttered against the bars as though she would break out. _Don't worry, my love,_ I thought, _I'm here to save you._

I waved the flower at the witch in answer to her question, which only provoked her. She sprang at my, surprisingly spry, and made to snatch the flower out of my hand. But the instant she touched it, her skin began to crack, and with a sudden shriek she dissolved into ash. Her power was ended.

Jorinda chirped frantically in her cage, and I went to her. As soon as I opened the small door, she flew out and perched on my shoulder. I remembered what I had seen in my dream and touched the flower to her. In a sudden whoosh of air the bird vanished and Jorinda was at my side, throwing her arms around me in a tight embrace.

I dropped the flower to run my fingers through her red-gold hair and pull her face up to mine for a kiss. It wasn't until her lips met mine that I fully realized how much I'd missed her over the past months.

"I was so scared," she whispered into my ear when at last she pulled away. "I thought you'd never come."

I kissed her forehead, not wanting to tell her how close I'd come to abandoning her.

"Let's go home," I said.

* * *

**So obviously I didn't get this done when I wanted to, but this update comes to you literally from the road- our van has wi-fi, which is just fantastic. **

**Anyway, this is indeed the end of the story. It is FINISHED. So, ya know, usual supplications for reviews apply especially to this chapter. **

**Thanks for reading, and to those of you who have, thanks for reviewing. Maybe I'll start writing something new in the near future...**

**~~Mazzie~~**


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